Your mother and I met in the early 70's. We were both young and idealistic, and thought that in our lifetime there would come a time that being of different races would not matter. My family would come to accept her, and hers would accept me, because they loved us. And you know what? I was right. Though the marriage, as marriages sometimes do, ended in divorce, it was nothing to do with our families.
Still, even on the dawn of the new age, we still had problems. We were denied a hotel room and told, quite simply that they didn't "cater to interracial couples". I had my car door bashed in by two men who didn't like seeing me with your mother. Oh..and the looks, always those.
(Continued)
Still, all this was mild. See, I had grown up in the south. I remember "colored" fountains. I remember driving through Liberty City even back then when I was so young, and thinking I must be in a different country. The conditions were so horrible as to leave an indelible stain in my mind. I remember hearing the "N" word used openly, and out of hatred. So, when I hear it today, in rap songs, and in street vernacular, I can never get used to it. I remember walking by the lake with my best friend and his brother.. way back..before I even knew there was a thing as race. My friend's brother picked up a huge rock and let sail, and before I knew what was happening watched it find its target..one of two young boys, all because of their skin color. I couldn't understand why he'd do something like that. He said they didn't belong here, and they probably stole the bicycle they were riding. I'd love to be able to apologize to them, to this day. That rock may as well have hit me, for the pain it causes me to even look associated with such a monster.
Still, these moments shaped me, in ways I can't begin to explain. I became so involved in the civil rights movement, even back then. While I was growing up, in MY lifetime, people were still dying for their right to vote, and YOUR right to vote. In my heart, I try to believe that I would be nearly so heroic as Schwerner, Goodman, and Chaney. Thank goodness, I'll never have to know. No.. thank Schwerner, Goodman, and Chaney and the many heroes like them, for their sacrifice paved the road to this point in our history.
So... my point. I had always thought that race was an illusion, and that someday these wedges of division would somehow disappear. I am amused that I was so optimistic as to believe it would happen in my lifetime. I'm sad it may not happen in yours. These people, McCain supporters, who stand on the sidelines shouting down the early voters who stand quietly in line.. I've seen their faces before, and I've smelled their bile and their hatred much too often.
This election is not supposed to be about race, although it's an undertone that can't be denied. This election is about promise, though. It's about a promise that this country made to you, my children. It IS about hope. When I see and hear Barack speak, I think in my heart that finally America has come to the point of clarity..and that this will be the point in history that truly defines us as a country. And when I see those desperate, angry people on the sidelines, clinging like barnacles to the rotted hull of racism, I can see how threatened they feel. And in my fantasy world, this new sea of hope will enfold them too, in undeniable unity.
So all of this weight I've carried to this new point once so distant on the horizon. On November 4th, I will stay up till the last state reports. I don't know how this election will turn out. I can only tell you one thing, that is certain. On the announcement of the election results, no matter who wins, I will cry.
I love you,
Dad
[update]